


Peaches

by mind_and_malady



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Pre-Fall
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-19
Updated: 2018-02-19
Packaged: 2019-03-21 04:16:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13732950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mind_and_malady/pseuds/mind_and_malady
Summary: Lucifer's first attempt at temptation. Michael never really stood a chance.





	Peaches

**Author's Note:**

  * For [contornos](https://archiveofourown.org/users/contornos/gifts).



> Thank you to contornos for prompting me to write fluffy, idyllic pre-fall Michael/Lucifer

They’re racing, the slipstream propelling them at ever faster speeds. Michael laughs, catching up and clipping Lucifer with a wing, grinning when he hears him laugh. Lucifer swoops back in, dive-bombing Michael, who just manages to dodge, both of them falling from the atmosphere before catching themselves.

The sun is rising behind them. Michael takes a moment to catch his breath, watches Lucifer do the same. He’s backlit by the glow of the sun; it makes a halo around him, and the sky is a rainbow of blues and purples and pinks and golds, every color reflecting onto Lucifer’s wings. He is the sky, the sun, and Michael feels his breath catch in his throat.

Lucifer smirks at him like he knows, then starts to descend. Michael follows, both of them alighting down in a grassy meadow. The grass is golden, intermixed with wildflowers, trees sparsely dotting the landscape. Michael can hear water nearby, two rivers meeting; he can hear birds calling, insects humming, all the sounds of life surrounding them.

It’s beautiful, Creation. It always has been. But Lucifer is lovelier, he thinks. He outshines it all, God’s Lightbringer, Heaven’s Morningstar. Idolized, adored, universally beloved, and _terrifying_. All of that remains true here among Creation, but it’s softened somehow, the edges of Lucifer’s smile blunted, his eyes gentler than he’s ever seen when Lucifer pauses under a flowering tree to run a hand over the bark.

Lucifer extends a hand, and Michael takes it, twines their fingers together as Lucifer nudges the tree to grow a little faster, the blossoms turning into wide green leaves and soft, low hanging fruit. Michael lets go and drops to the ground, resting his back against trunk of the tree while Lucifer plucks a peach or three from the branches. He gently tosses one to Michael, then sits beside him, the second peach resting in his lap while he takes a bite of the third.

The peach sits, mostly forgotten, in Michael’s lap while his gaze rotates from the encroaching sunshine to Lucifer, clearly savoring every bite of the fruit. When Lucifer catches him, Michael glances down into his lap, ignores the tight curl in his chest, ignores how it twists when Lucifer laughs.

“Do you not like them?” he asks, curious and entirely unbothered.

Michael hums a little, then shrugs. “I’ve never eaten one. I’m not sure what they taste like, that’s all.”

There’s a glint in Lucifer’s eye, the same glint that is always followed by terrible and wonderful things. That expression has dragged Michael to the bottom of the sea, to watch galaxies form and collide, has led them both to know how it feels to be creators of something beautiful, to know love as a choice. It is temptation and curiosity and the inevitable ruin of them both.

“Let me show you,” Lucifer murmurs, and leans in.

His mouth is firm and cool against Michael’s, slightly sticky from the fruit. He doesn’t know what to do for a moment, but then Lucifer’s hand is in his hair, pulling a little and his mouth falls opens and Lucifer’s tongue is in his mouth. He tastes sweet, a heady and warm flavor to him that drives Michael to make a nonsensical sound before throwing himself forward. His wings tangle with Lucifer’s, and he relishes the shocked, stuttering noise it drags from him before twining his hands into Lucifer’s hair, sliding his tongue into Lucifer’s mouth and giving back what he received.

Lucifer growls, a deep reverberation in his throat, and pushes himself forward into Michael’s lap, traps him against the tree. The peaches roll away in their fervor, forgotten. Nothing is gentle, teeth finding their way into Michael’s lip, nails digging into his skin, Lucifer’s wings thrashing against his own. They separate when Michael shoves Lucifer back, pins him against the earth with his legs splayed open, Michael slotted between them. Lucifer’s mouth is red and wet, eyes bright, and he shows teeth when he smiles, rolling them.

They fight for a while, twisting arms and pinning wings, no certain victory for either of them, both of them laughing and grinning as they roll in the dirt. By the time Lucifer pins him, they are both covered in dirt, wings filthy, brown and green smudges scattered over their skin and in their hair.

This time, when Lucifer leans in, he tastes like laughter, and love, and earth. His hand is curled around Michael’s jaw, his mouth is gentle. Michael’s wraps an arm around Lucifer’s waist, buries another in his hair, desperate to keep him there, to keep this moment. The intimacy between them, the electricity that rolls through him with every new press of Lucifer’s lips against his, pressing closer and closer together until he’s convinced that they will phase through each other, it overwhelms him.

“ _Lucifer_.” Michael doesn’t know what else to say, or do, or _be_. All he knows is the taste of the one above him, how it feels where they’re pressed together, and nothing else.

There’s quiet laughter from above him, and Lucifer draws back. His eyes are molten gold, mouth red and slightly swollen, cheeks flushed. But he’s smirking, that glint in his eye again, beyond pleased with himself. His gaze is trailing over Michael’s chest and neck, tongue darting out over his lips, before meeting Michael’s eyes. “How long do we have, do you think, before someone comes looking for us?”

Michael sighs, closes his eyes and leans his head back against the ground. “Not long enough for whatever you’re planning, most likely.”

“That’s unfortunate,” Lucifer demurs, and then pushes himself up and off of Michael. He offers a hand and Michael takes it, lets himself be pulled upright. His eyes flick up and down over both of their forms, and Lucifer sighs, saying, “We should probably clean up before we return.”

They bathe briefly in the nearby rivers, growing distracted and briefly splashing at each other, playing around and nearly falling into another mock fight. But they control themselves, barely, and take flight once again. They’re halfway home by the time Michael notices that Lucifer has a peach in his hand, catches the mischievous glint in his eyes.

He says nothing, merely hides a smile of his own and tilts his wings to just barely brush Lucifer’s as they fly.


End file.
